I knew wot it was. It was the handle of that umberella ’ammering on the gate. I went cold all over, and then when I thought that the potman was most likely encouraging ’er to do it I began to boil. “Somebody at the gate,” ses the skipper. “Aye, aye,” I ses. “I know all about it.” I went on talking until at last the skipper asked me whether he was wandering in ’is mind, or whether I was. The mate came up from the cabin just then, and o’ course he ’ad to tell me there was somebody knocking at the gate. “Ain’t you going to open it?” ses the skipper, staring at me. “Let ’em ring,” I ses, off-hand. The words was ’ardly out of my mouth afore they did ring, and if they ’ad been selling muffins they couldn’t ha’ kept it up harder. And all the time the umberella was doing rat-a-tat-tats on the gate, while a voice—much too loud for the potman’s—started calling out: “Watchman ahoy!” “They’re calling you, Bill,” ses the skipper. “I ain’t deaf,” I ses, very cold. “Well, I wish I was,” ses the skipper. “It’s fair making my ear ache. Why the blazes don’t you do your dooty, and open the gate?” “You mind your bisness and I’ll mind mine,” I ses. “I know wot I’m doing. It’s just some silly fools ’aving a game with me, and I’m not going to encourage ’em.” “Game with you?” ses the skipper. “Ain’t they got anything better than that to play with? Look ’ere, if you don’t open that gate, I will.” “It’s nothing to do with you,” I ses. “You look arter your ship and I’ll look arter my wharf. See? If you don’t like the noise, go down in the cabin and stick your ’ead in a biscuit-bag.” To my surprise he took the mate by the arm and went, and I was just thinking wot a good thing it was to be a bit firm with people sometimes, when they came back dressed up in their coats and bowler-hats and climbed on to the wharf. “Watchman!” ses the skipper, in a hoity-toity sort o’ voice, “me and the mate is going as far as Aldgate for a breath o’ fresh air. Open the gate.” I gave him a look that might ha’ melted a ’art of stone, and all it done to ’im was to make ’im laugh. “Hurry up,” he ses. “It a’most seems to me that there’s somebody ringing the bell, and you can let them in same time as you let us out. Is it the bell, or is it my fancy, Joe?” he ses, turning to the mate. They marched on in front of me with their noses cocked in the air, and all the time the noise at the gate got worse and worse. So far as I could make out, there was quite a crowd outside, and I stood there with the key in the lock, trembling all over. Then I unlocked it very careful, and put my hand on the skipper’s arm. “Nip out quick,” I ses, in a whisper. “I’m in no hurry,” ses the skipper. “Here! Halloa, wot’s up?” It was like opening the door at a theatre, and the fust one through was that woman, shoved behind by the potman. Arter ’im came a car-man, two big ’ulking brewers’ draymen, a little scrap of a woman with ’er bonnet cocked over one eye, and a couple of dirty little boys.